My Little Ventrue Pt. 04 Ch. 14

He leaned back, and watched the most amazing ass in the world grind into him. She still had the thong on, and had her tiny skirt pulled up to sit on her hips along with it, thong pulled aside to cut across one of her large ass cheeks and stay out of the way.

Cumming was inevitable. First him, hands taking her hips and squeezing on her body as he felt the warm fluid gush up through his length, and into her squeezing insides. Moments later, she did as well, and her head fell to dangle between her arms, elbows still on the table, as she started to tremble. She still danced, still kept swaying, but no longer with the beat of the music. Woman was having trouble staying in control as the orgasm worked through, and Julias had lost all control already, just holding on as she milked him, and soaked him.

"At the same time again," she said, looking back to him. "I'm getting good at this." And, like she was getting comfortable in a lounge chair, she sat back, and put her back to his chest. Her pussy continued to shiver around his cock, and small trickles of her cum ran down his length to warm his testicles, along with his own. Divine.

His hands slid up, and found her breasts. Firm, handful breasts, and he massaged them as he hugged her against his chest. Nipple piercings were a delight, and he caressed them — and her — until she was melting into him.

"This quick fuck turned into a fifteen-minute tryst," he said, "not even counting the meal."

"Fifteen minutes is quick, you jackass." She elbowed him in the side, but did nothing to stop his caressing of her body. Still sitting on him, still moaning, still shivering as the final waves of orgasm aftershocks worked through them. His were done long before hers though, and he delighted in feeling her pussy trembling, until it eventually forced out his softening shaft.

"I could do five minutes."

"I'm sure you could do two, Superman, especially with me at the helm." Instead of covering herself up, she let her head fall back and dangle onto his shoulder. Completely at ease with the idea of anyone seeing her with her tank top up.

The girl really did like to be watched. And whenever a third party was involved, the girl often came her brains out, very quickly. Something about another presence, a third — or fourth — body, being in the room, or sometimes in the bed, that set her blood on fire. If it was possible — and it was — he was sure she'd love it if he was having anal sex with her, lying underneath her, while six thralls stood around her and touched her, caressed her, and fingered her. Mental note: consider doing that for her birthday.

She slid off of him eventually, adjusted all her clothes, and adjusted the sleeping kine next to them so she wouldn't fall over while Triss got snug against Julias's side where the kine had been. Arm behind him, his arm over her shoulders, they held each other, and let the blood digest in their systems. The orgasm was the icing on the cake.

"So, you talk to Jack much?" she said.

"Yeah, was with him every day during his recovery."

"Catch up with him?"

"He works for me, Triss. I'm always caught up."

"Yeah but, I mean, stuff like... you know, that emotional crap."

Doing up his pants, it was hard to take the conversation too seriously. But after a moment, he thought about Jack, and let the gravity of Triss's curiosity sink in.

"We all struggle with the beast."

"Jacob doesn't," she said.

"No?"

She shrugged, and pulled at his hand that dangled from her far shoulder, arm hooked behind her head. And like a cat, she chewed on one of his fingers.

"Big part of who he is, who the Circle of the Crone are, and the blood magic shit; accepting the beast."

"You sound like you're fitting in then."

"Yeah... a lot more than I thought I would." She chewed on his fingers a bit more, catching them between the points of the massive teeth along her jaw. Apparently she'd become a house cat when he wasn't looking. "But Jack's a fucking kid, and now he's got kills under his belt."

"He tell you about what happened?"

"Jacob did, filled me in on some details he got from the Prince. I knew about the kill on the first night, the frenzy kill, which is a major shitty situation. Dies and kills the same night? Definitely put a scar on him. Then the Viktor and Tony thing, then the Lucas thing, and then the spider monster thing, yeah, all crazy fucking shit, right? But this time it's people, humans, and killing humans changes you, hunter or otherwise."

He sighed, nodded, and hugged her a little closer. Killing Kindred was horrible, but at the same time, understandable. They were lone predators forced to share space and a food source; conflict was inevitable, including the occasional casualty. But killing humans was different. Killing a kine was like killing a part of yourself, your old self. Cliche, and true.

"I'll have to spend some more one-on-one time with him, teach him some more things, maybe talk more about... my past, I guess. Memories are starting to get hazy." For the best. Memories of his wife, of his life before his embrace, it was easier to just forget them. Time heals all wounds because time tempered many things, like water against the rocks of a shore, until they were smooth. In this case, memories lost their details, and the visceral edge that they came with.

"Do you remember your first kill?"

"... I think so."

"Cool to talk about it?"

"It was a hundred years ago. All I have are blurred memories. But, it was... Viktor had me working a deal with a local crime circle, and I... no, wait, that's..." God, the memories, digging them up was painful in an almost literal sense. Internally resolved, externally forgotten. But, he could remember a face. "... someone I drank... didn't know when to stop."

"... that's rough. Fits right into the super depressed but confident, business dude you were when I met you."

"And you?" He wasn't sure why he asked. The macabre conversation was a weird aftertaste to seek after a great meal and great sex.

Many Kindred didn't talk much about their old lives. All it did was bring painful memories to the surface, and force the particularly younger vampires into depression, as the sharp edges of their still fresh memories killed them with a thousand cuts. But if she wanted to talk about his past, he was happy to learn about hers. Almost felt like being human again, talking about old parts of life that didn't matter, idle chitchat that lacked the usual emphasis on the now that most Kindred learned to adopt.

"My early years were pretty rough, you know? I figure it is for all Nosferatu. Waking up with fucking crocodile teeth, claws, and snake eyes? Yeah, angry. Then Antoinette executes my sire — deserved — and I'm left just... yeah, not fun times. Found some scumbag kine, and let loose."

Yeah, he remembered that. Invictus adjusted reports to hide the details on kills that looked odd, even if they came from someone not in the Invictus. It served no one to leave paranormal evidence lying about. A human getting ripped in half was paranormal evidence.

"Sorry I—"

She elbowed him in the ribs. "Don't do that, jackass. You didn't know me then, you got no reason to be sorry. And besides, it's all turned around in the end. I don't hate myself nearly as much anymore, and hell, find myself pitying other Nos a lot more than me. Some of them have it pretty bad."

Yeah, true. Maria was one of the worst cases. To look like a deteriorating corpse for the rest of their second life was not a fate he wished on anyone.

"Jack's young," he said. "Younger than you, lot younger than me. I'm worried that, after everything he's done, it's going to start eating at him. I warned him long ago that it would, that being Kindred would start to wear on him, his humanity, and he'd have to struggle with that. That was after he killed Mrs. Pavala. Since then, kid's been through one shit show after the other."

"Exactly. We got our shit figured out, mostly, long ago, and our shit mountain was smaller in comparison. I'm thinking Jack might need a little more... I don't know, just keep an eye on him?"

He smiled at the woman, and nodded. She really cared about the kid. Maybe they'd bonded over their love of metal music, or the fact they both had zero tact.

"I will."

"Course, he's also sleeping on Antoinette's tits near every night, so, I'm sure she'll help him. ...you ever wish I had tits that big?"

"All the time."

She elbowed him, again, hard. "I wouldn't be able to bend over without breaking my back! And at the ball? Practically had them out." She held out her hands in front of her a foot, as if holding giant breasts of her own.

"You really love breasts."

"I... yeah, I guess I do." She pulled up her tank top over one of her breasts, and traced her areola with a claw, where the snake tattoo was biting it.

"... you know who had great breasts? Jennifer." Time to test the waters again. Planting thoughts of Jennifer in Triss's head, while she was touching herself, was perhaps playing dirty, as Triss wore her arousal on her sleeve. But, sometimes, the best time to get someone to admit to what they wanted was when they were too horny, or drunk, to block their impulses.

"Ha, yeah, everyone got to see them. Certainly no Antoinette, but plenty big, and soft without being too soft."

"That's right, I forgot you were groping her while you were getting dressed for the ball." Like a fly to honey, Triss was with this girl.

"I wasn't... ok, I was, a bit. She was all over me, and... I... really wanted to touch her, after a while."

"As long as you don't engage in full on sex without me, you know I'm ok with you and your Circle being rather open and handsy with each other." If a hundred years in Dolareido had taught him one thing, it was to be a bit more open minded about sexuality.

"Thanks. I... I yelled at her, a few nights ago. Kind of got angry at her, and Aaron and Othello, about some Circle stuff." She pulled her tank top back down, and squeezed his arm as she turned to rub her cheekbone and sides of her crocodile teeth into his shoulder. "Jacob's happy with me, but I might have upset them."

He nodded, and hid his smile. Idea.

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~~Antoinette~~

She sat there at the grand table of glass, and waited, Daniel at her side, standing and with his hands in the small of his back. Primogen meetings had become far more interesting as of late, to her annoyance and frustration. If all had been going well, then Primogen meetings should have been dull, and borderline pointless. Only when the affairs of her city were in disarray did Primogen meetings truly serve purpose.

Her mind wandered to Jack. One more night, and she would see her beloved. He would be healed, mostly, and she would bathe him in bliss and comfort to celebrate their reunion. She would hold him, squeeze him if his body could endure it, and kiss him a thousand times. She would set his head upon her lap, listen to his woes, and wash them away to the best of her ability.

A Kindred as young as Jack should not have to deal with such hardships, to carry such burdens, to be tormented so and be forced to bear responsibilities as large as his. He managed to pull through, each time, but it was still far too much to ask a neonate, especially one barely a year embraced. It both overjoyed her to know her little Ventrue was capable of such feats, but saddened her to no end to know a boy so young, barely a man, had gone through such strifes.

She smirked as she ran a finger along her jawline. In the future, she would be sure to enjoy all manner of fantasies with the both of them, tie him down perhaps, and torment him with bliss rather than pain. But upon their meeting tonight, she would need a more delicate hand, to hopefully alleviate his undoubtedly troubled, strained mind.

Maria Turio, Garry Tones, Michael McDonald, Julias Mire, and Jacob stepped into the meeting room, each dressed in clothing that spoke of their status and covenant. For the Invictus, that meant suits, except in the case of Maria, who preferred ghostly white dresses befitting women of two hundred years passed. For Garry, that meant jeans and a shirt, but at least they were clean. For Jacob, that meant a robe, something dark, and imposing, because Jacob was Jacob, and there was no changing that old man.

She waited for each of them to be seated, and leaned back in her grandiose chair as she watched them. They knew what this meeting would be mostly about, and it was not the squabbles over the Mirrden district.

"My Primogen," she said, "I fear yet another source of frustration has crept into my city." They all nodded. "A hunter, named and known, has journeyed far in pursuit of Azamel. This Jeremiah has hunted Begotten and other beasts for many years, decades, and he brings his hate and loathing to Dolareido." Natasha had informed her of every detail of Jacob's conversation with the old monster; no doubt the old Nosferatu knew it too, even as he also told her of Jeremiah before hand.

"We should have gotten rid of her before this Jeremiah fucker showed up," Garry said.

Michael shook his head. "She's strong. Getting rid of her would have been a violent affair, and would have cost Kindred lives."

The Carthian shrugged. Like two dogs trying to intimidate each other, these two Gangrels, forever looking for weakness in the social armor of the other. "You're the one who's lost Kindred in this mess. Barry was his name, right?"

"You suggesting this problem isn't your concern?" Julias said.

"... no, it's my concern. What I'm saying is, we should have seen this coming."

Maria raised a hand, like she was parting the ocean, instead of squabbling men. "A calculated risk was made. We didn't—"

"And now, the person who's at fault for these hunters showing up like a god damn plague, hates your guts because you've set up explosives all over her damn home." Garry threw up his hands, an interesting counter to Maria's gestures. She was behaving calmly, but Garry, angry and emotional, was addressing the elephant in the room. Antoinette could appreciate that, as much as the volume of his voice grated on her.

Michael leaned forward, and raised the corner of his lip in a snarl. "We had to get her under control. And now she is. Unfortunately, no one expected her to bring a host of hunters with her, like a bleeding animal on the run."

Antoinette sat back in her chair, and combed her hair over her shoulder as she watched and listened. The Invictus had made the situation worse for themselves, and for all Kindred, by making an enemy of Azamel. And yet, it was not a decision Antoinette could judge them too harshly for, as she would have done the same, given time.

"I'm actually more interested about the other hunter," Jacob said. He leaned back in his chair, one leg folded over the other, and tapped a finger on the glass table. A puppeteer, making his puppets dance; this was no doubt the thoughts moving through the man's mind, as always. The others noticed it too, and they grumbled and groaned as they turned to face the man. "I've been informed that Jeremiah has a partner, a true partner, unlike the hunters with him, who are basically his cannon fodder as far as I can tell. His true partner's name is Angela."

"Angela?" Julias said. "She's the one who was torturing Jack, and the one he had to deal with to get out of there. She's dead... hopefully."

"Ah, yes, that makes sense. Then I highly doubt she's dead, if she's anything like this Jeremiah, these psychopaths who presume themselves heroes, holy crusaders on their ridiculous quest to annihilate the world of monsters." He laughed at the comparison. "Did you know she's Athalia's daughter?"

Silence befell the room. Vampires did not breathe, and their hearts did not beat; silence was normal for them. But the silence that followed Jacob's words cut the room apart, and Antoinette feared her glass table would shatter under its impact.

"... that... is news to us," Julias said.

Antoinette nodded, and gestured to the group. "I think it is safe to say, that it is news to all of us. Are you sure of this, Jacob?"

"Yeap. Beatrice heard it from the man himself. So did that human you're leaving free, by the way." Eyeless tapped his fingers in ornate patterns, as if playing rather complicated music, while weaving his web. "It was a tasty detail I was very tempted to keep to myself, but I couldn't help it, just had to share. What do you think Athalia will do, when we put her between a rock and a hard place, when we have to kill the daughter while her mother watches?"

"... you paint an unnecessarily brutal picture, Jacob," she said. "If what you say is true, and what Jeremiah said was true, then perhaps Athalia will understand that her daughter is a threat. Perhaps she will be reasonable." Even as she said it, she knew her words ringed hollow. Athalia did not seem reasonable, from her few encounters with her. And no mother, no matter how logical, reasonable, wise or intelligent, could let their child be murdered without great effort to convince otherwise. "Daniel, old friend, you know Athalia better than us. What do you think?"

The sheriff raised a gloved hand, adjusted his glasses, and folded his arms across his chest. "... I don't know. I didn't know she had a daughter. She's lived a secretive life, leaving the city, returning occasionally... She's intelligent, but volatile, angry, hateful. Fifty fifty that she'll understand, if we have to kill this Angela. Or at least, fifty fifty she won't declare war on us if we do."

Fifty fifty. Those were not chances Antoinette enjoyed, and many years of experience had taught her the folly of gambling, even when the chances were in your favor. You did not create a foundation by taking risks, you created a solid foundation by being more intelligent, determined, and patient than others. The uncertainties presented by Jacob's information was chaos to her law; which, he no doubt knew, like a child delighting in dropping pebbles in the calm water to see the ripples.

"Assuming we can kill her," Garry said. "Sure, in a straight fight it'd be easy, especially if Jack was able to handle her. Kid killed what, four, five hunters? Must be some real shit hunters we're—"

Again, Maria raised a hand, cutting the Gangrel off and earning a frown from him. "Do not underestimate these hunters based on Master Terry's success in escaping their torture. He has proven far more capable than most Kindred his age, Mister Tones, far more. He is to be rewarded for his advancement in skill, power, and for his determination in dealing with his kidnappers. And I note, that the boy has shown cunning and power most Kindred do not show until they are often twenty or thirty years embraced. You would do well to treat him with as much respect as you would your Carthian Miss Damor." And, to sprinkle salt in the wound, she grinned at Garry as she leaned back in her chair, and folded her arms across her stomach. "My apologies, ex-Carthian, Miss Damor."

Jacob choked on a chuckle. If a Kindred salivated when not blushing, Antoinette was sure Garry would have spit on the table in Maria's direction. But with time, the man shrugged, and leaned back in his chair.

"Should we get the wolves involved then?" Garry said.

Julias nodded. "Eventually, they will be involved. It's just a matter of when. Jack said the hunters were unaware of anyone named Avery, so it's unlikely the hunters are aware Uratha are in the city. Why would they be, if they came for Azamel?"

"Well if your childe mentioned her," Jacob said with a shrug.

"He said he lied about who she was once he realized they didn't know who she was."

Jacob tapped his temple several times. "That may have worked. It may not have. In either case, that bitch Avery may be useful."